Can anyone spot me some bail money?

Tonight, The Fuzz came and took the D-Man’s finger prints.

God knows how many unsolved crimes are about to become… solved.

!

We had a break-in.

Sort of.

Sort of not-so-much a break-in, because someone (not me) left the bedroom windows wide open and someone (uninvited) climbed in (no breaking necessary) while D-Missus was taking the kids to kindergarten.
The alarm went off straight away though, so they went straight back out the window without taking anything.
Except, when they were outside they decided to take D-Missus’ push bike.

So the cops came and dusted for prints.

They needed our prints as well, to eliminate our prints from the evidence they collected.

At least, that’s what they said.

But I can’t shake this feeling that this is somehow part of some big elaborate plan by The Man to take the D-Man down, by getting his prints, putting them into The Computer and seeing what comes up…

D-Missus’ bike was worth about $300 (allowing for depreciation).
Our insurance excess is $300.

Goddamn. Motherfucker.

I consider us pretty lucky though.
What if they’d stolen my swords?
What would I then use to cut them up with, once I track them down, ninja styles?

I reckon that if you catch someone on your property, who is on your property with Evil Intent, then you should be allowed to kill them. Or at least fuck them up pretty badly. And you couldn’t be legally charged with anything.
In fact … the courts would actually award you a medal. And there would be a street parade and stuff.

But… if someone was on your property with Evil Intent… and they killed you, or fucked you up pretty badly, then they should go to jail forever.

I reckon that’d make criminals think twice.

See. Lateral thinking.

Things will be different when I’m in charge.

Beavis: “That’s your solution? Kill the bad guys if they set foot on your property? And then if the criminal gets away, to form a vigilante group? To track them down? And beat them? …You have a lot of anger, you know. You’re an angry, angry man.”

D-Man: “Shut the fuck up, or I’ll chop off your head and piss in your eyesocket! Oh… and could you pass the salt, please.”

I gotta say, I was pretty impressed with the police response.

Back when I got burgled back in the early 90s, it took three days before the boy and girl in blue turned up. They were perfunctory.
There were some very obvious fingerprints at the point of entry. They didn’t care.
Our neighbour saw the boys who broke-in running away from my house, and recognized them as the teenagers who lived in the house next to her (two doors down from me). The police didn’t bother to speak to the neighbour, or visit the boys.

We only got some action when my flatmate spoke to her brother (a policeman) who was angry at the response and made a phone call and got a fingerprint dude around.
But nothing further happened.

This time, an officer was here taking fingerprints within two hours of D-Missus calling. Very efficient.

Oh wait… I get it now.

When I got burgled in the 90s, I was living in a ghetto in the poorest suburb in Auckland.

I now live in an affluent one.

The police care more about people who live in wealthy white suburbs.

Sweet.